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The truth behind the myth....
When lumberjack Stephen drove his pickup to work, he had no idea what that day would bring.
His young new helper Kenny was riding shotgun, beaming with pride at being part of this crew.
They had the simple job to take down several huge old trees in the northern part of the forest. They were early, as was usual for Stephen, driving through the light snowfall of a still dark morning. They wanted to start working with the first light of day.
The air was heavy. The men saw that the snowfall had intensified, the flakes falling so tightly now that the beams of the headlamps created a blindingly white wall in front of them.
Stephen relaxed slightly as they left the highway and he now steered the pickup onto the loose ground of a dirt-road through the forest, a path he knew well even when covered in snow. No one was supposed to cross their path, but he still drove carefully to be able to stop for a deer or a fox. “It is their territory”, he always said, “be careful not to harm any creature while working in the woods”.
He concentrated on the road ahead, almost blinded by the heavy snowfall, the tumbling crystals reflecting in the beam of the old pickup’s headlamps, when Kenny suddenly screamed out, pointing: ”HEY WHAT....?”
It was all he could say before something hit them.
An animal, a huge deer, maybe even a moose. Uncommon in this part of the forest though.
Stephen frantically hit the brakes, but the slippery ground meant he lost control, and the pickup ran head first into a thick tree.
Both men had opened their seat-belts when they reached the road in the forest, and now they had no chance of bracing for the impact. Darkness fell over the two men in the truck, they lost consciousness and sank into Morpheus’ arms, knocked out after their heads hit the dashboard.
A team of young men, maybe even boys, appeared seemingly out of no-where..
”Hey-ho, Prancer, Dancer, Comet, Ho, HOOO” The boys were well versed and reined in the big animals with ease, as two of them looked into the wrecked pickup.
One of the boys said, sadly:
”Yes, it’s like we thought. We found the new applicants for the jobs, the new chief and his assistant.”
The voice was resonating in Stephen’s head, but not strong enough to wake him up. The unconscious man heard the words, but did not understand their meaning.
It took a while before the two of them woke up again. The air was fresh and clean, it was surprisingly warm, and the smell of chocolate, cinnamon and several other aromas felt both strange and wrong but also wonderful at the same time.
Stephen knew something had happened. He knew the huge animals had made him turn the steering -wheel wildly without thinking, and as the pickup hit the tree, he felt blinding pain and saw a blinding light.
”Kenny! Kenny, are you there?” Stephen felt panic rise in him as he frantically sat up, realizing he was naked under the thin blanket.
”He is right here, Stephen, he is alright!” Stephen heard, and now saw a young looking man, not tall but small, built like a growing boy of maybe thirteen, or maybe.... Stephen blinked to focus his eyes, giving his brain time to think.
The man, the boy.... the.... Doctor, now standing by his bed, looked young, but radiated dignity and competence, so Stephen knew he had just better wait and listen. The smallish man emanated strength as he smiled paternalistically but with an impish air, displaying a wealth of knowledge well beyond his apparent age
Stephen realized that the man, the Doctor, was in fact his physician, and he decided that he should listen carefully to him.
”Your young friend will be fine in no time, he is currently sleeping. You must be hungry, maybe a nice hot cup of chocolate and some cookies? We make them fresh in-house all the time, can you smell them?”
Stephen felt an overwhelming peace, just like he had felt when he stayed at his Grandma’s house when his parents had a fight.
The cup of hot chocolate by his bed looked inviting, and he took a sip of the warm, brown, creamy beverage, tasting rich, with the subtle flavors of vanilla and cinnamon. While he thought about the taste, he laid back, relaxed, and drifted into a well needed slumber.
When he woke up again, a boy stood by his bed, again showing confidence but also with a touch of urgency. He spoke up and addressed Stephen almost hastily:
”Santa, please, you gotta wake up, we need you!”
Stephen sat up, abruptly. The blanket covering his muscular form slid down, and he registered that the young man looked approvingly at his naked chest, before his still fogged brain focused and he realized what had startled him. 
”SANTA?”
Stephen wanted to to stand up, but felt weak. Nevertheless, he concentrated hard, his feet felt the floor, warm and solid, and he gathered all his strength to stand, towering over the sexy young man in front of him.
Sexy....? Why did he think ‘sexy’ now, in front of that clearly strange young man.
The.... young man.... had a well formed body, just like a child born and raised in the more rural parts of the country, clearly no pampered boy who had just left the computer in his room. This young man looked sporty, athletic, and was used to roaming the wilderness like a much younger Stephen had been, always playing in the forest that began just beyond the fence of the garden behind the house. 
Stephen appraised the smiling boy, the boy who had given him that special look. The boy was just like him, he knew. The air of confidence, the will to master the rough outdoors, the passion for adventure that had made the young boy Stephen camp out in the dark forest in summer, building a fort only he knew about.
Even though the strange boy wore a weird style of a business suit, Stephen felt he could trust him. However, at the same time he felt that long forgotten feeling of lust, he felt his dick grow, and he sat down again, pulling the thin blanket over his lap. The memories had been almost overwhelming, coming down on him like a ton of bricks as he saw the young man’s face, determined but also a little amused.
Sitting again, Stephens mind cleared, slowly. The word ‘Santa’ that had startled him was forgotten, swept away be the avalanche of thoughts, feelings, memories.
He asked: ”What about my friend, what about Kenny?”
The young man now held a book in his hands, a surprisingly thick, old, leather-bound book, and looked over to the other corner of the room. He simply said: ”Kenny is fine!” before he sat on the bed, next to the naked Stephen, now all business like, opening the book.
Stephen wanted to get up, walk over to Kenny, but the young man said simply:
”He’s fine, let him sleep! I’m Bernard, by the way!”
His thigh rested next to Stephens, emanating surprising heat. The young man, the boy, seemed to have a fever, and Stephen asked, full of concern:
”Is everything alright with you?” Up until now, he had not even really noticed the young man’s outfit, his ‘dress-pants’ were just a thin pair of tights and the jacket as thin as a t-shirt. It was winter, after all, Stephen thought, but now he too felt he was also warm and comfortable, even though butt-naked.
”Sure Santa, I’m alright, as usual! Can we get on with the job now?”
There it was again, the word ’Santa’! Where was he? Was this a kind of hospital that even catered for the nut-jobs? Had the young man wandered off from his wing and ended here, in the.... uhm....
Stephen looked around. It was quite a cozy room, not a typical room in a hospital. Even a fireplace was lit, very unusual for an intensive care room.
The door opened just as Stephen wanted to jump up again, and the young man in the white coat walked in, smiling, nodding at Bernard: ”You don’t waste time, as usual, right, Bernard?”
Stephen decided to put his foot down. He asked, maybe a little too forcefully:
”WHAT is going on here? WHERE are we?” He pointed over to Kenny, clearly indicating he spoke for both of them.
He saw the Doctor smile and he heard Bernard giggle as if they had played a funny prank on the unwilling victim of an accident, and Stephen’s head seemed to explode from a fresh wave of pain, like a headache. The young physician saw it and laid a cool hand on the lumberjack’s forehead, with a surprisingly soothing effect.
The headache and the nausea were gone as quickly as they came, and Stephen calmed down, looking over to the sleeping Kenny, the boy who had been with him in the truck, the boy he had started to care so much about in the last few weeks.
He focused again, addressing the two young men, the boys that still waited for his reaction.
This time Stephen was talking in a low voice, careful not to wake up his friend.
”OK guys, please tell me what happened! Where are we now? How long have I been knocked out? You know what I mean!”
Stephen did not address the one nagging doubt in the back of his mind, the word he thought he had heard. No doubt, it was something his fogged brain had dreamt up. No one had addressed him as ‘Santa’, surely?
”Listen up, Santa!” Bernard started. There it was again, the word that felt weird, strange, wrong.
Stephen had jerked his head up so quickly that his headache flashed through his brain again.
The young ‘Doctor’ gave the other boy a warning glance, before he spoke up:
”Listen to me, Stephen! Uhm.... I hope I may call you Stephen?” He watched the convalescent in his care almost apologetically as he continued: ”You and your friend Kenny had an accident.”
Stephen wanted to give a grunt to acknowledge that he already knew that some ‘stupid deer’ had crossed their way, but the serious face of the Doctor made him stay quiet.
”Your truck was damaged, almost beyond repair I’m afraid I was told, but we already have a team working on the problem. You hit your head since your old clunker had no airbags, but fortunately you suffered nothing that we couldn’t repair.”
The Doctor had smiled impishly as he had used the derogatory term ‘old clunker’ for Stephen’s beloved Ford F 150, the red truck his Grandpa had bought new, back in 1969.
Stephen felt rage boil, but Bernard quickly took an IPad out of his pocket, and Stephen saw his truck, in a repair-shop of sorts, already taken apart, and a group of.... boys?.... worked on it.
There it was again, the weird feeling.
He forced himself to look closely, smell the scent of cinnamon, vanilla, chocolate and freshly baked cookies in the air, and while he saw the pointy ears and pixie faces of his hosts, he fell back into oblivion, sank down on the bed, unconscious. 
The Doctor pulled the blanket over Stephen, tucking the man in, almost like a loving uncle would tuck in his beloved nephew after a fever he barely survived.
Bernard sighed: ”I think we will have to wait another day to break the news to him!”
When Stephen woke up again, he heard the voice of Kenny, animatedly talking to someone Stephen didn’t recognize. The voice sounded deeper, more.... manly.
There it was again, the nagging feeling something was wrong. Stephen opened his eyes and saw Kenny, dressed in a sporty combination of sweatshirt and sweatpants, and the form of a muscled young man in a grey pair of mechanics dungarees, which were surprisingly clean and looking new.
Kenny looked up, saw Stephen move, and pointed at him while he exclaimed ”Q, call the Doc!”
The mechanic moved with grace as he took a phone and simply talked into it without haste:
“He woke up again, call Bernard!”
Kenny had jumped up and rushed over to his friend, hugging him tightly.
”I was praying you were alright!” Kenny sobbed into his friend’s shoulder. All Stephen could do was hold the sobbing boy gently. Kenny was like a child, sobbing and holding on for dear life, and all Stephen could think of was a way in which to protect the boy he had grown to love so much. Kenny was somehow like a nephew to Stephen, a boy he adopted or maybe a boy he simply adored, even he himself did not know it for certain.
However, there also was something else. The treatment they had given him had worked wonders, and now, after seeing all those well-built young men, he felt a longing that had remained dormant for a long time.
He felt a longing that Kenny could not fulfill, that much was clear to Stephen.
He had felt it first, just a short time ago, with that boy in the suit. Was it an hour ago, or a day? Stephen looked around, and there it was, the longing, that raw passion he felt.
There it was, out in the open. Stephen looked up, and he felt his lust rise as he saw the sexy, muscled mechanic, but at the same time he tried to calm himself and will this feeling away.
He took a deep breath and concentrated. He needed to be able to take care of the boy he loved like an older brother would love his baby-bro, or an uncle would love his nephew, and nothing would stop him.
Quentin, the muscled mechanic that had aroused Stephen so much, brought pictures of his latest project, pictures he had already shown Kenny. The boy now remembered the tablet, and he looked up with a teary smile and reached out, and Quentin handed Kenny the device. 
”Look! It’s like a miracle! Q here....” Kenny giggled as the mechanic groaned theatrically....
”Q here has repaired your truck, even repainted it and re- chromed it! It looks better than new!”
Kenny giggled again. He scrolled until he found a picture that his new friend did not seem to be proud of, and showed it Stephen with an impish grin.
It was of the mechanic, the picture clearly taken while he was in his workshop, looking incredibly sexy in his dungarees, without a shirt, showing off his tattoos.
Again Stephen felt his cock stir, and he could see the dick of his friend Kenny also reacted to the picture, tubing the jogging pants suspiciously.
Their recovery process seemed over, their bodies ready, willing and able to do much more than just work.
All Stephen could think of was to hide that side of him. He saw the signs, he knew Kenny was the one to ignite the fire in the mechanic. Stephen needed to try to calm down and be the loving uncle he had decided become.
Right on cue the door opened and Bernard walked in, the Doctor in tow. Quentin the mechanic greeted them with a nod to Bernard and a beaming smile to the Doctor:
”Hey Doctor Pottasleikir, all clear?” The melodramatic moan Bernard gave as he heard the Doctor’s Icelandic name, meaning something like ”Makes medicine out of potassium”, prompted the mechanic to address the man in the business suit accordingly with his full name:
“Anything wrong, Mr. Alabaster Bernard Snowball?”
Kenny was already clutching his stomach, giggling. He had heard some stories from his new friend, and he was not surprised as Bernard now shot back:
”Oh shut up, will you, Quentin ‘Q’ Shinny Upatree!”
Now even Stephen laughed, wholeheartedly. He understood what he had felt. The weird names came from old stories he had heard, stories his Grandma had read to him when he was a young child. The young men were called the traditional old names of Santa Claus’ Elves.
The Doctor smiled as he determined his patient was strong enough. He started:
”Those guys usually call me Bob, by the way! Them childish bozos started it all wrong. Please Stephen, sit down and have a cup of hot chocolate, I will tell you what your friend Kenny already knows!”
It took Stephen a while to understand what had happened. It took him a while to understand how it all worked. It took him a while to accept that Santa Claus was real, that the Elves were real, that Santa really fulfilled wishes, and how it all was possible.
Q, surprisingly, described the theory behind the miracle in quite simple terms. After postulating that the Multiverse was real, he simply said: “Trust me, on Christmas Eve you will handle the job with ease! Many hands make light work!”
The group of five, with even the Doctor still in tow, left the hospital wing of the ‘Santa Claus Emporium and Toy Factory’, as Bernard called it.
Their first stop was at Quentin's Workshop, and Bernard could not keep his face straight very long as he said: ”I did ask our Q-branch to restore your vehicle....” and Kenny interrupted ”.... with all the usual refinements, Mr Bond!”
Quentin rolled his eyes as he pressed a button and opened a garage-door.
Everyone heard Stephen gasp as he saw what had been his old, rusted, and wrecked Ford F150 Pickup Truck that had belonged to his late Granddad. Stephen’s Grandma, still alive to this day, had always told him to give the ‘old rust-bucket’ at least a fresh lick of paint, but the money was tight and just fresh paint wouldn’t have been enough, anyway. 
Quentin the mechanic started to take a deep breath to rattle through the list of all the things they had done to the old truck, but Kenny cut him off: ”Q, please just give him the key!”
As Stephen opened the door, a smell of leather and new car rose into his nose. He fondled the stitching on the brand new car seats, making a diamond pattern just like the most expensive British cars have, the leather black, the stitching in red contrast thread, fitting the shiny paint of the pickup-truck.
The engine roared to life at the first turn of the key, and the digital gauges clearly showed much more information than the car formerly had provided to the pilot.
“Pilot?” Why did Stephen think of pilot, not driver? Quentin had just demonstrated some weird settings, and Stephen suddenly realized his old truck could now fly.
The steering wheel could be used just like the yoke of a plane, the instrument cluster could provide an artificial horizon as well as a compass, and the navigation system used the SC Satellite system, “Short for ‘Santa Claus’” as a proud Q explained.
”You are serious? Huh? You wanna tell me I’m Santa and deliver gifts all over the world in my old pickup?”
Kenny and the Elves laughed heartily, and Stephen fell in with them, relieved that the nightmare was over, as Bernard dryly answered:
”Certainly not in this thing. The reindeer would be offended!”
It took some friendly banter, some joking back and forth, before Stephen realized he would be Santa Claus for real from now on. He was flabbergasted, shaking from anxiety, and even the sweet hot chocolate that he sipped slowly did not help to calm him.
Quentin again tried to explain how things worked as Bernard cut him off:
”You just have to believe it’s the best feeling anyone can have! You will feel full of joy, you will feel you can handle the world, you will be able to do all your tasks in a minute, but also stay in a place as long as you want, whenever you decide, you will be able to talk to someone, spend time. Christmas Eve will be long enough, trust me!”
Kenny had slipped inside the old Pickup, sat by Stephen and now held his hand, looking into the older man’s eyes almost imploringly.
”I believe it will be great! Just trust the guys, they know!”
Stephen had his doubts, and he showed it:
“So, when it is so great, why did the old Santa quit that Super-job?” He sounded sarcastic, and he knew it.
His new friends seemed to sadden as he mentioned the “Old Santa”, and Quentin even had a tear in his eye as he tried to start to answer: ”The..Old..” but he chocked on the words, and Bernard stepped in:
”Your Predecessor did the job for 178 years. He died, full of joy and happiness, and believe me, he would have done it even longer, but at 218 years of age his heart was too weak.”
Bernard sounded all business, but Stephen saw it was just a facade. The ‘Old Santa’ had been a good friend for many, many years, and the young men felt the loss in their hearts.
Kenny had left the Ford again to walk over to his new friend Quentin, and now, in an almost protective stance, stood with the Elves. Now he perked up, after he had done the figures, and now asked:
”Wow.... and you all knew him?.... Uhm.... hey guys.... and how old are you?”
Quentin, the mechanic, held Kenny protectively as well as lovingly, his muscled arm around the boy’s shoulder. He smiled a teary smile: ”Do you want to tell, Doc?“
Doctor Pottasleikir, Doctor Bob, smiled: ”Oh Kenny.... Do you really want to know?”
He knew what had happened between Q and the young man.
Kenny, totally oblivious, asked, innocently nosy: ”Sure, yes, tell me!” And the Doctor smiled:
”Your new lover is the youngest of our group. He’s only two hundred and sixty-four years of age....”
Kenny looked at the Doctor, astonished by the words he just had heard. He felt the strong arms of Quentin embrace him from behind just before he fainted, holding him tight, and as he sank back, the muscular mechanic held his young lover with ease, lifted him up and carried him back inside the building that housed “Santa Claus’ Emporium and Toy Factory”
Stephen followed his young friend Kenny and his so much older lover with his eyes, and the Doctor commented, knowingly: ”Don’t worry, he will be alright!”
Bernard interrupted, distracting the man they wanted to be the next ‘Santa Claus’:
”Do you want to try the effect?”
Stephen, now all business-like again, concentrated: ”What effect are you talking about?”
He was following Bernard and the Doctor, and they too walked into the building, but did not follow Kenny and Q. Stephen watched wide-eyed. He knew what he was expecting, he thought he would see busy elves producing toys, tons of them. The hallways were empty, though.
There was just an intense aroma of fresh baked cookies hanging in the air. Bernard led the way, and it took them only a minute or so to reach a grand hall with a strange looking device in it.
”This is it! We call it the ‘Santafication-Transmogrifier’!”
The machine was huge. Stephen was staring at it wide-eyed, gazing at it while his brain tried to understand what the huge device might do. His mouth tried to form the word he had heard:
”Whhaat? A ’Santamijigger Transwhatchamathing’?” He turned around as he heard the two old Elves giggle. He felt he was blushing, he knew they had played a prank, but he did not understand what the prank had been.
Bernard looked at him, smirking. Even though his colorful business suit had looked weird and out of place before, now it had gotten so much weirder.
Stephen stood next to the machine, under an arch that was now illuminated by the colors of the rainbow. He looked down at himself, and saw his feet stood on a concrete floor one second, in sand the next, on a carpet, tiles, wood, and then was back, here in the grand hall of “Santa Claus’ Emporium and Toy Factory”
He knew he had not dreamt. He knew he had seen Bernard was with him, changing his appearance with every new place they had visited during their quick trip through the realms.
”Quick trip through the realms?” Stephen spoke the words he had just formed in his mind. He did not know why he knew what had happened, he just knew that it had happened for real.
As he looked up again, he saw a grinning Doctor, still in his white lab-coat, and a beaming Bernard, who seemed to have changed into a wild fantasy uniform, a souvenir he brought with him from the wild ride he and Stephen had just had.
The Doctor pointed at Bernard’s hair: ”Look, Stephen! Once you learn to handle it, you have full control. This crazy guy even took the time to go shopping and have a full restyle!”
Stephen shook his head to get rid of the cobwebs. His mind cleared, and he slowly started to remember what he had experienced in the last.... week? It somehow hit him like a ton of bricks.
Bernard had taken him by the hand, led him through a really wild ride, made him follow his most carnal instincts. They had visited places Stephen had never seen before, tasted exotic food and danced wild dances, did all the things the child in Stephen always had dreamt of, but never was able to experience.
He looked up into the smiling faces of the two men, the two old Elves that had made all this possible. He now knew why the other Santa had done the job for such a long time.
It had been a great week. Stephen somehow knew it had not been a week, it just had felt like one.
However, he felt great. His senses still felt things he did not even comprehend fully, and the Doctor suggested going back to the bedroom Stephen had used the very first night to give the overwhelmed lumberjack time to relax, sleep, think about the things he had just seen, done, felt.
The Elves led him back to the room, and a hot cup of chocolate already waited for the exhausted man.
He took a sip, and as the rich and creamy flavor helped him to relax, he felt how tired he really was. Strangely enough, Bernard helped him to get rid of his boots and Doctor Bob opened his flannel shirt.
It didn’t feel weird, though. Suddenly a flashback hit Stephen, and he was back in one of the places they had visited during their trip.
He was in a warm room, sitting on a bed. He saw the open door of the balcony, he smelled the aroma of the place, sweet, spicy, a little like the smells of the ocean and the odor of a harbor. He walked over to look down from the balcony, and the view was overwhelming. It was night, and he saw the harbor, but also was able to peak through the wall of buildings, the high and mighty skyscrapers that surrounded the hotel he was staying at. He could even see the grand villas, built on the side of the ‘Peak’, the mountain overlooking the city.
A boy was with him, a stranger but no stranger, somehow well known. 
Hongkong. He had never been here as ’ Normal Stephen’, but he knew it, he was in Hongkong, evidently in one of the hotels on the main island. The ‘Mandarin Oriental’, another fact he just ‘knew‘.
He smelled a scent of freshly brewed tea, he heard words in a foreign language, he understood their meaning, and he was even able to respond accordingly, without hesitation.
“Chá, wo de péngyou?”” Tea, my friend?” Feng asked, Feng, the young man he had met in the suite to answer his wishes.
Stephen felt the warm skin of the young man as he embraced him from behind, somehow slipping under his arm to feel the strong lumberjack’s muscles, holding him tight. It was Feng’s way to feel safe and secure, Stephen knew.
“Ganjué kuàilè?”, “Feeling happy?”, Stephen had asked, and he spoke the Chinese words without difficulty, and had no problems in understanding the answer:
“Ni xiang ganshòu duoshao?” ”You want to feel how much?”
Feng just giggled, as he let his small hand roam over the naked form of the muscular man. Stephen knew his Chinese friend loved to feel him, loved to explore, loved to try to embrace his rigid pole with his hand, and always failed.
Stephen’s hard dick was just too big and thick for the young Chinese to close his fingers around it, and, as usual, he giggled, gave up, and Stephen scooped him up, held him in his arms, and while they kissed passionately, he carried Feng to the bed.
It was Feng who was the center of the affection, though, not the older and much more muscular man that now kissed the young Chinese, slowly roaming over the light, tight body of the boy.
Feng moaned as he relaxed on the huge bed in the huge suite, a room he usually cleaned as part of his job in the huge hotel. But not tonight. Once a year his dream came true, and the man came, rented the room, ordered Champagne and all the delicious little specialties that were usually out of the realm of even the dreams of the young worker.
Feng giggled as the man poured a drop of Champagne into his belly-button, and sipped the bubbling liquid, sucked it out of it, finally licking it in the end.
The man fed the boy the small hors d’oeuvres he had ordered, little ‘pralines de surprises’ as the menu described them, and they both giggled about the sometimes weird tastes of those small bites of exotic food, usually only meant for the rich and famous.
It took almost an hour of eating, kissing, feeling, massaging, before their game became carnal, wild, sweaty and loud.
Stephen, the muscular man, somehow knew what Feng wanted, needed, craved, and he delivered his service like a present of the gods, like a precious gift.
Feng first held his breath, then moaned low as Stephen started to move. His tongue found the young man’s muscle ring and slowly worked it, caressed it, opened it up. Feng felt like he was on fire, his lust burning, as he pushed his tight little ass right into the man’s face. He knew how Stephens thick member would feel, and as always he feared the first pain, the moment of the initial push, the second his muscle ring would be expanded. He craved that feeling, though, he wanted to feel the man inside of him, he wanted to feel the love the man had to give.
Stephen was Feng's deepest wish, he was the one to quench the boy’s thirst for that tender caressing, the slow lovemaking, until the boy’s raw lust would break it’s way through and the heat and the fire engulfed the two of them.
As Stephen thick cock broke the way and slid in, the older man grunted in lust, while the younger whimpered, feeling that heat deeply inside of him. Stephen’s fat member, the ramrod that the boy wanted, delivered pure pleasure to Feng, filled him with the longing to cum quick and explode in pure joy, but also make it last forever, feeling one push after the other, getting worked by a piston that never stopped.
Feng screamed out his lust. He did not fear that anyone would hear him. This was his dream, his wish, and nothing would disturb them.
The bed rocked while the smaller man pushed back, fell into the man’s moves like a real power-bottom, moved back and forth, giving Stephen no chance to control the game. It was the Chinese’ wish, it was his show, he called the shots, he was the one who controlled the motions.
Stephen knew what Feng wanted.
They rolled around until the smaller man sat on the bigger, rode him like a jockey rides a prized Arabian racehorse. Feng used his powerful thighs to control the motion, he let Stephen’s penis slide in and out just like he wanted, while Stephen just delivered his gift, was reduced to a mere toy for the young Chinese, like a pure dildo with a pulse.
Stephen didn’t mind, though. He was delivering a gift, a task that felt great. He was slowly approaching his first orgasm as Feng had already shot three loads, and part of the magic was that the Chinese himself could decide when the party was over.
Feng moaned. His hair was wet from sweat, he looked disheveled. Stephen knew the boy needed a break, and it was now time for him to let go his self-control. He knew Feng wanted to be filled with hot cum, he wanted to feel the huge load of the muscular white man that had helped him to sink into oblivion, Feng that wanted to feel the big man explode in his tight little ass.
Stephen grunted, moaned, bucked, screamed as he came. Feng knew how to use his inner muscles, and the tight ring milked the man’s fat member, massaged it, worked it till it ran dry.
Feng, as usual, took the cock of his lover into his hand, played with it, marveled at its sheer size.
Also, as usual, he leaned over and licked the dickhead, as thick as a plum, and made Stephen groan from newly inflicted lust.
Feng wanted to drink the man’s cum, that much was clear, but they were not in a hurry. The night was young, and both men on the bed had the stamina for a long session of wild sex.
Feng sucked Stephen’s dick to it’s full rigidity. He wanted the older man to take the reins. In this part of the game Feng wanted to be conquered. Stephen could not hold back any longer. He grabbed the boy’s head, forced it down, pushed in like Feng was now the sex-toy, made him gag and choke on his huge member.
Stephen knew what Feng wanted and even needed, besides tender love. The younger man wanted to be used, at least sometimes, and now Stephen did just that. He knelt over Feng's tight body, rocked his hips and worked his face, pushed in deep, made Feng’s tight throat expand until the Chinese couldn’t breath anymore and his head started to spin.
Stephen was well versed, and he pulled back just as the young man started to pass out, giving Feng the feeling of the sweet oxygen, filling his lungs, making him explode in adrenaline, giving him back the pure joy to be alive.
Feng came again, hands-free, as Stephens cock pumped a fresh load of cum down his hungry throat, filled his tight belly with the special protein he wanted.
After this almost brutal assault the bigger man embraced the smaller, held him tight from behind, spooned him protectively until the both of them drifted into a well needed slumber.
Feng later woke up, feeling glorious. He woke up in the small bunk-bed in the room he shared with three other servants, in the basement of the ‘Mandarin’ Hotel.
He felt great, though. He was full of energy again, knew a special someone had been there for him, fulfilled all his needs and wishes without any repayment required.
And Stephen?
He was with Bernard and Bob again, dressed in his usual outfit, while the two Elves again wore the colorful business suit and the white coat, just like before.
Bernard gave him a wide grin: ”Did you like what you just did? The sensation did not even last a split-second for us, you have never left, but you changed this boy’s life, at least for a moment.”
Stephen blinked, in deep surprise, while he started to ‘remember’ a ton of things he had done, seemingly all at the same time. Fulfilling wishes like swimming with dolphins with a disabled boy, riding a motorbike with a man who was bedridden for years and was facing near death, jumping off a plane in a tandem jump for an elderly lady and many many more things.
He looked at the Elves with tears in his eyes, tears of joy and happiness, now knowing how ‘Santa’ delivered all the gifts in one night, without a real workshop to produce toys.
He looked at his ‘Office Manager’ Mr. Alabaster Bernard Snowball, and Bernard smiled back, confident that Stephen had made up his mind.
He was not disappointed as a fresh whiff of vanilla filled the air and Stephen beamed at him:
”Where do I sign?”